


This Love Would Burn So Yellow

by WaxyWolf



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Foster Care, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jed Bartlet is Dad, Kid Fic, no one dies everyone is fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaxyWolf/pseuds/WaxyWolf
Summary: Because they are his children. Not by blood, but by circumstance and choice. They might be from different backgrounds, ethnicities, ages, and religions, but they’re family.And he wouldn’t want it any other way.AKA the kid fic no one asked for, but sorely needed





	This Love Would Burn So Yellow

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Sweethearts! I'm rewatching The West Wing and it's so good and this is what happened. If you haven't seen the show, that's okay (though you are MISSING OUT!!!) and it's not necessary to read this fic, since I take a pretty hard turn from canon. Namely, that Jed Bartlet fosters all the rest of the characters.  
> This is entirely unedited, unbeta-ed, and a trainwreak of my emotions surrounding The West Wing. Read at your own risk haha
> 
> Happy Reading!
> 
> Title from "Oh Maker" by Janelle Monae (though I was listening to the cover by Left at London)

After their youngest daughter, Zoe, moves out to attend college, Jed and Abbey Bartlet find the house...well, empty. Having raised three kids, the quiet is disquieting. So, like any good Samaritan with a stable career and a soft spot for kids, they decide to foster.

They start small. They start with a girl, accustomed to raising girls. Claudia Jean arrives in a denim jacket covered in patches and adamantly demands to be called C.J. 

“Only my grandmother called me Claudia Jean,” she tells them with all the authority of a fourteen year old with messy bangs. Her grandmother had raised her until her death the previous year, and there were no living relatives willing to take C.J. in. She shakes Jed’s hand firmly and under no certain conditions tells him his house is rather large for an economics professor. He tells her he won a nobel prize for his work, and that big houses mean less chances of seeing people you don’t like. Her eyes widen, and she nods approvingly, as if she is interviewing him rather than the other way around. Clearly, he’s passed the test, because they receive no further complaints. 

C.J. is determined and stubborn, with excellent grades and participating on the girl’s softball team after school. She debates Jed at the dinner table, and helps Abbey sort papers when she gets home from the hospital. She fills the holes in the house neatly, and seven months pass before Jed and Abbey sit her down for a conversation. They tell her they’ve been thinking of getting another foster child, a boy named Josh. She sits up straight, eyes narrowed, and tells them it’s been a pleasure, that she can be packed in half an hour. Abbey lays a hand on her arm.

“No, C.J. sweetie, we mean we want you and another child. Not that you aren’t lovely, but our house is quite big, as you pointed out on your first day. We feel we could do more, help more children like we helped you. We don’t want you to leave, unless you want to. But we’d love to have you stay with us for as long as possible.” C.J. opens and closes her mouth, suddenly unsure of her words.

“Oh..Ok. I mean, I want to stay, I’d love to stay, yes. Thank you. Thank you.” Jed pulls her into a hug, and she holds on tight.

The next time, C.J. stands next to them when they answer the door to the social worker. Josh is a significantly harder nut to crack. Acerbic and closed off, Josh wants nothing to do with them at first. He follows their directions, does the dishes, completes his homework, but getting him to open up? Near impossible. C.J. gives him a once-over and shoots Jed a look. Even though she’s only two years older, she’s determined she’s way out of his league already. 

The social worker hisses that his parents were killed in an armed robbery, shot while Josh sat in the car. He still jumps at loud noises, face pale and sweating, eyes flicking towards all the exits in the room. Jed isn’t quite sure how to make the boy comfortable, letting Josh have plenty of space and time. 

When he does talk, it’s in measured words or to bother C.J. She screeches at him to leave her alone, and Josh smirks. His walls are sealed tight, and Josh seems determined not to let another human within ten feet of him, ever. Jed and Abbey resign themselves to allowing Josh to do his thing. After all, he eats his vegetables and gets good grades. As long as he’s healthy and safe, all they can do is wait for him to come to them.

Josh cracks two months into his stay with the Bartlets, when Jed is in his office doing paperwork. It’s late, and Jed’s getting frustrated with his work. A knock comes, and Jed looks up to see Josh in the doorway, holding a wad of tissues to his face. He stands up immediately.

“Josh? What’s wrong?” Josh seems to shrink from the doorway. 

“It’s nothing, just a bloody nose, you’re working-” Jed cuts Josh off.

“No, it’s okay, come in here and let me see.” Josh steps carefully into the office, defenses at the ready. Jed sits him down in an armchair and has him tilt his head backwards. He gets a pack of ice and sits down next to Josh. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Josh mumbles around the ice pack and tissues, 

“I heard a noise, a car backfiring, and I just,” He huffs, frustrated with himself. “I dunno, I tried to get away. I hit my nose on the bedpost, and the blood-” he breaks off, looking at his feet. Jed lets him have the silence, the boy lost in thought. Josh suddenly looks up, brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick to you and Mrs. Bartlet. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t…” 

“You didn’t want to replace your parents with two strangers?” Jed ask gently. It’s not really a question. Josh nods, still holding the wad of tissues. “That’s okay. I would probably have done the same, in your position at your age. Nothing can replace your parents. But Abbey and I, we don’t have to be your parents. Think of us as people who care about you.” Josh’s eyes are suspiciously wet. “You’re a good kid, Josh.” 

Things are different after that. Josh softens little by little, allowing Abbey to mother him and C.J. to tease him fondly. Underneath all that bravado and resentment, Josh is extremely bright for a twelve year old, gifted even. He still shies away from loud noises, and isn’t a fan of blood, but things get, dare Jed say it, better?

So much better, in fact, that three months later when Jed receive a call about an emergency case, he takes it immediately. Abbey’s out working a long shift, and won’t be home until the following morning. Jed takes the case in a heartbeat. He's sure she would have done the same. 

Sam Seaborn arrives in a thunderstorm, having been removed from his previous home only several hours earlier. Sam’s been in the system for a while, since he was put up for adoption at three. Jed can’t imagine giving doe-eyed Sam up, much less hurting him, but the grim look on the social worker’s face and the bruises up Sam’s arms tell a different story. Jed Bartlet is a good man, but even he feels his blood boil. He wants to beat Sam’s previous foster parents over the head with a stick, send them to the darkest, dampest jail cell he can find for as many years as he can get sentenced. 

Sam stands sopping wet in the Bartlet’s entrance. He’s too small for eleven years old, shoulders slouched in. His dark eyes are huge, but he remains silent. Josh pokes his head in, supposed to be asleep at this late hour. At least with Josh’s silence, there had been at least an aura of cynicism, of teenage anger and confusion. But with Sam, there’s nothing. He’s just - silent. All he has is a hastily packed backpack and the clothes on his back, which are soaked through. Josh observes Sam, unsure. Jed crouches down to his level, careful to meet Sam’s eyes.

“Sam, would you like to change into dry clothes?” It’s not really a question, but Sam nods, clutching his backpack. “Alright. Do you have dry clothes, or would you like to borrow some from Josh? Josh is only a year older, and his clothes should only be a little big on you.” Sam shoots a glance at the older boy, who raises an eyebrow, then turns back to Jed and nods once. Jed shepherds them upstairs, trying not to wake up C.J. After leaving Sam with a pair of too-big sweatpants and tee shirt and a promise to call if he needs anything, Jed walks Josh back to his room. At the door, Josh stops and turns to look up at Jed.

“How long is he gonna stay for?” It’s not spoken meanly, only with genuine curiosity. Jed shrugs. 

“I’m not sure,” he answers honestly. “It depends on what he needs and whether he feels comfortable here.” Josh wrinkles his nose. 

“What do you mean, ‘what he needs’?” 

“Well, everyone needs something or somebody. Abbey and I are here to give it, if we can. Sometimes kids just need a place to sleep and steady meals. Maybe they need a parent or a coach or a tutor. Sometimes, all it takes is a hug.” Josh ponders these words for a minute, looking too philosophical for a twelve year old. 

“What did I need?” he asks bluntly. Jed chuckles. 

“A verbal punching bag.” 

The next morning finds Jed cooking breakfast. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, staying up thinking about Sam. He’d texted Abbey, so she wouldn’t be caught off-guard arriving home to one more in the house. When C.J. comes down first for breakfast, Jed is able to brief her on what happened last night. When Sam comes down, Jed almost misses his entrance into the kitchen. He’s just too quiet. C.J. is the one who offers her hand, introduces herself by her full name, and fills him a glass of orange juice. Jed hides his smile when he turns to flip the pancakes. 

They learn Sam is quiet, but not melancholy. He smiles after a week, when Josh goes toe-to-toe with C.J. and loses badly (never challenge a high school girl to be petty). He talks when he has to, but he prefers as few as he can manage. Abbey takes to him right away, and refers to him as her ninja. Slowly, he gains weight and confidence, changing from a somber, silent child to a bright, quiet child. He loves any book he can get his hands on. C.J. and Josh treat him like glass at first, but soon are right back to yelling at each other and yelling at Sam for swiping their textbooks. Jed watches them all watch a movie from the huge couch, with Sam in the middle with a ginormous bowl of popcorn, and thinks, “huh maybe this kid turned out okay after all.”

Then, at the start of the new semester, he signs up for debate club.  
Jed was surprised when Sam had slid the paper over his desk, pointing to where he was supposed to sign. 

“Debate club after school? You know they require talking in debate.” Jed looks over the rim of his glasses at the boy in front of him. A month ago, Sam would have had that blank, awful look plastered over his face. Now, he nods and smiles, pointing once again at the permission slip. Well, as long as the kid knows what he’s getting into. Jed dutifully signs and hands it back over. 

As it turns out, debate club is the best thing that could have happened to Sam. The first few meetings are slow, Sam coming home and shrugging when asked questions. But after a few weeks, he starts to talk more. He starts reading books on public speaking and stealing the newspaper off Jed’s desk. He even takes part in the nightly squabbles over the dinner table. It turns out, the real problem wasn’t getting Sam to talk; it’s getting him to stop.

The change is so drastic, Josh loudly questions whether Sam’s been kidnapped, Invasion of The Body Snatchers style. Big eyed, skinny wrists, eleven year old Sam becomes something larger than life when he debates. Arguments become much more lively around the house, and much more cerebral. Jed watches Sam avidly discuss Kant and utilitarianism to a bemused Josh, and feels pride rise in his chest like a warm balloon. 

Out of all of them, out of C.J.’s quick wit and quicker empathy, out of Josh’s messy hair and messier ideas moving at the speed of light, Jed is the proudest of how far Sam has come. They all have their rough patches to traverse. C.J. doesn’t know how to stop caring when the people she loves get hurt. Josh lashes out when he thinks people are trying to coddle him or hold him back. Sam, even in his newfound glory of oratory, has times where he goes silent, where he flinches from fast movement and cowers under his blankets. But they come together, slow like rain puddling after the thunder.

The next addition to their home isn’t really an addition in the legal sense. Leo McGarry is an old man, and an older friend of Jed Bartlet’s. He too has grown children and an empty house. So, when Jed and Abbey take three foster children under their wing, Leo takes some inspiration. He’s not quite suited for the younger kids, not up to Sam’s wriggling enthusiasm or Josh’s teenage angst, so instead he ends up with 16 year old Toby Zeigler. Toby is sullen but not crass, a tenacious high school junior. He’s old enough to make his own choices and feed himself, which Leo appreciates. All he needs is a roof over his head and a legal guardian, which Leo is more than willing to provide. Jed likes to joke they have more of a roommate relationship than a parent-child one, but that's okay. It's just how they are. 

With their tempers and love of efficiency, they seem like a perfect match. But here’s the catch: Leo is a Boston Irish-Catholic, and Toby is Jewish. He may not bring much in his suitcase when he arrives on the McGarry doorstep, but he brings his stubbornness and his faith. It’s less like oil and water than you might think. Leo drives Toby to attend Sabbath, enjoys a cup of coffee at a nearby coffee house, picks Toby up when the service has finished and they all go to the Bartlet’s for dinner. Neither one are extreme in their practices, and it works, in some strange way. 

Even more strangely, Toby and Josh form some unlikely friendship. Toby seems to view Josh as some sort of brother, however perpetually exasperated he is by the younger. Despite the four year age gap, Josh is bright enough and Toby is curious enough to keep conversation flowing. Even though C.J. is closer in age, she prefers boys not caught up in computer science books and his own ego. 

It’s an odd little family, disjointed, double-jointed, and all the rest of their chaos. Leo takes a kind of uncle role to C.J., Josh, and Sam, and Toby fills in the gaps with his mumbling sarcasm. Jed looks around his house, sees the change in each of them, and feels pride. His children.

But something is still missing. 

And then. The last expansion to their family is the most inconspicuous of all. Charlie Young, seven years old and recently orphaned. His mother killed in the line of duty as a police officer, Charlie is a little dazed and immediately wraps the entire household around his little finger. Jed finds him asleep in Sam’s bed as the other boy works at his desk. Sam just shrugs, his glasses slipping down his nose. Entirely too precocious for an eleven year old. 

“He said it was too quiet in his room. Said there’s no traffic or shouting out here in the suburbs.” Jed leans against the door jamb. Of course it’s too quiet. This isn’t his home. Charlie looks too small under the quilt across Sam’s bed. And in that moment, Jed swears to protect the kid, that he’ll never die on him or any of his children. 

Because they are his children now. Not by blood, but by circumstance and choice. From C.J. entering sophomore year in high school in denim jacket armor, all the way down to Charlie walking into second grade with a backpack covered in dinosaurs. They might be from different backgrounds, ethnicities, ages, and religions, but they’re family. They’re family, safe behind the walls of the Bartlett resident. 

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess, but I'm not sorry. I want baby Sam Seaborn discovering speech and debate, and C.J. being rough around the edges as a preteen, and Josh not knowing how to manage his trauma (but I guess that's normal oops...) okay I am a sucker for this stuff. Anyways! Thank you so much for sticking with this!
> 
> Comments/kudos are my lifeblood! Leave one if you enjoyed!
> 
> Yell at me or send memes to me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/sunstarsseokjin


End file.
